


We Are Not

by gyromitra



Series: Days of Our Superhero Lives - R76valentines [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: First Date, I'm Sorry, I'm basically writing Marvel, M/M, R76Valentines, Superhero!AU, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: In which there is too many Tracers, a hero is kidnapped and a nefarious plan starts brewing (maybe possibly somehow) – or how I wrote Marvel Telenovela.Or“This is seriously awkward.”





	

“This is seriously awkward.”

Reaper only raises one elegant eyebrow.

“This is awkward as shit,” Jack repeats. “I get the idea that you are a diabolical nefarious villain and I’m a kidnapped hero, but this,” he waves his hand around at the avenue, “this is simply weird and you are weirding me out at the moment, so, good job.”

“I don’t understand what is weird about our first date?”

“And this is exactly what I’m talking about. We are not dating.”

“Hush, darling, and place you order.”

Jack sighs in defeat and picks up the menu, squinting at the literally wriggling script.

“Do they have one in English?”

“No.”

“Do I even want to know what is on the menu?”

“Two house specials,” Reaper tells the tentacled thing that acts as their waiter. Or waitress. Jack won’t even try to guess if that thing that just chirped happily and snagged back the menus has a gender, and if yes, is it a gender that has any translation into Earth life. “And the good wine.”

Tentacle monstrosity chirps again and skitters away.

“So. This thing. What’s your fucking angle, Reaper?”

“I’m certainly trying to enjoy our first date,” Reaper extends his hand over the table. “Gabriel.”

It’s like talking with a head trauma victim, Jack decides. One very dangerous but befuddled head trauma victim.

“I… know?” Jack eyes him with suspicion, but at the expectant look, he finally shakes. “Jack.”

“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Yet he doesn’t let his palm go, circling lightly over the fair skin with his dark thumb. Jack stares and then lightly clears his throat.

“So. What is this place?”

“Just the most renowned restaurant on this side of the galaxy. The wait for the table could be even counted in decades.” Reaper chuckles, still holding his hand, and Jack tentatively tugs back, to no avail.

“Who did you kill then to get it?”

“They always have a table reserved for the royal family.” Jack almost chokes on his own tongue.

“What?”

“I’m the next Glorious Leader.” Reaper clarifies even if that explains absolutely nothing and Jack manages to dislodge his hand when the tentacle thing skitters back to the table with food that looks ridiculously colorful and not at all like something edible. He’s not going to dwell on the royal thing.

“But why this?”

“Well, my dear mother wants me to settle down, and then you yelled at me that I should buy you a dinner first.”

“That’s only an expression,” Jack rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Battle banter. You were trying to kill me then!”

“I do admit it might have appeared so,” Reaper has the audacity to chuckle, “but, to be truthful, for the longest time I thought the little shit was my mate, and to realize one’s mistake was to a slight miscalculation is frustrating.”

“It wasn’t even the first time!” In spite of all Jack accepts the offered glass of wine and downs it immediately – it’s sweet with a slight bitter tinge. Alcohol seems like a good coping mechanism considering the situation. A lot of alcohol, so he shoves the glass demandingly at Reaper for a refill.

“And I’m really sorry about that.”

“You are most definitely not. You are the most unapologetic person… villain… thing I’ve ever met! Both of you are.” Jack restrains himself from screaming.

“Possible. But we both do have a weakness for pretty blue eyes.”

“What?” Jack feels the traitorous blush creep up his cheeks. Dammit, he is past the age he was allowed to blush at any compliment, more so if the one complimenting him is their not-so-favorite villain du jour. Even if the said villain is a seemingly slightly younger version of his best friend he had a crush on long, long ago. “There’s nothing pretty about them,” he snaps and Reaper shakes his head.

“Handsome and captivating blue eyes. Better?” Jack downs the second glass of wine. He is absolutely sure the bottle was the same but now it has a sweet sourness and he swears he can taste the flowery smell.

“No, not at all.” This time he grabs the bottle himself and pours the drink up to the brim, and, fuck, he doesn’t give a flying fuck that Reaper just observes him with that smug look on his face. It’s all some twisted mind game he has to accommodate for the time being until he can somehow make it back home. Which, admittedly, might be hard, as he looks at the rings visible in the sky. “Does it always look like that?” He gestures with the glass upwards.

“Much more spectacular during the night, which should start… in around fifteen minutes. And try the sauce, it’s exquisite.”

“I can’t even tell what’s the sauce in this abomination.” Jack prods the contents of his plate with a fork.

“The blue and pink covering, yellow is icing. Try to eat something, darling, because the chef might not survive the night.”

“You mean… are you going to kill him?”

“Why would I?” This time Reaper does appear offended. “He might be just a tad devastated that my date did not like the food.”

“I’m not your date,” Jack punctuates every word with a jab of the fork into the mass on his plate. “I’m not going to repeat myself. You’ve kidnapped me, that’s all.”

“Of course, darling.” Reaper smiles which somehow intensifies the burning on his face. Jack decides to give the food a try, and he is positively certain he’s going to regret it. Only he doesn’t. It’s like  a fucking summer sunshine if sunshine had a taste. Jack catches the falling fork just before it hits the edge of the table.

“Wow,” it comes a little too breathless but he is beyond caring at the moment. He goes for another bite and it only gets better – he can’t even imagine how. He’s blaming the wine. Yes. There must’ve been something in the wine he’s sipping even now.

“See, darling?”

“Stop calling me that,” Jack snaps at him again.

“And what am I supposed to call my mate then?” Reaper rolls his eyes under his glare.

“Don’t call me anything, because…” Whatever he wants to say dies off when the sun just goes out and for a split second there is solid darkness before the table begins to emit a soft glow. The city sprawled below them lights up but Jack just stands up and stares at the sky with the almost empty glass in his hand. The rings visible between the now blooming dark flowers sparkle and glitter with colors of the rainbow. It’s… breathtaking. Stunning.

Reaper slips to his side and at the moment the hand that lays on the small of his back doesn’t bother him that much, not when colors dance on the shining surface of the sky.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Don’t speak. Don’t ruin it.” Jack scoffs at him but then there are warm lips on his mouth and it feels only right to reciprocate, to let the invading tongue in. It’s all the wine, yes, he is sure, even as he moans into the kiss that grows more heated with every passing second until there is a really persistent jarring sound that does not want to go away.

“I’m sorry,” Reaper mutters, pressing lips to the scar on his forehead. “I have to take it. Mother.”

Jack considers jumping off the terrace in a fleeting flash of sanity when the reality comes crashing back. With a bit of luck, he might die on impact. Because he was just making out with the villain they are all fighting against. The villain who is probably another dimension’s version of his fucking best friend (that admittedly did try to kill him that one time), and is now speaking animatedly to a glowing screen suspended in the air. The image of the woman gestures back at Reaper, her voice steadily gaining in squeakiness, and then another screen comes to life with a clip of them kissing. Jack finishes the rest of his glass in one gulp.

“Is that blurry red thing below a view meter?”

“That’s the death threats,” Reaper says offhandedly and returns to the discussion with the woman. Fucking fabulous. Jack grabs the bottle and checks if there’s anything left inside. Sadly, it’s empty. The falling to your death idea seems more enticing now and he sighs dejectedly, just as Reaper growls something and the screens disappear. “Sorry, darling. Shall we continue?”

“No,” Jack mutters trying to glare at him even as hands settle on his hips.

“Pay no attention to the security detail, darling,” Reaper smiles when a fucking starship stops to hover above them. Yes, it’s definitely the wine, Jack concedes as he gives into the kiss again.

*

“Jackie-boy, where were you, we were all worried, you just disappeared, poof, you’re not there!” Lena’s doubles all ask simultaneously except the one that makes a call to the base.

“I… I think I was on a date.” The chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘who’ is intimidating. “I think… I think I made the gossip rags in another dimension. I don’t fucking want to think or speak about this whole affair.”

“Right. It was Reaper, right?” One of Tracers asks, the all-knowing smirk on her face.

“You tell anyone, I’ll track down and end each and every one of you, even in the future,” Jack hisses.

“Oh, scary,” they all giggle.


End file.
